


Who Says Murder Isn't an Art?

by NyxSolei



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Gatsby Party, M/M, Opium, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 17:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20429654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxSolei/pseuds/NyxSolei
Summary: It's his first party, and the butterflies in his womb won't let him settle down.





	Who Says Murder Isn't an Art?

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from VA, written for A DANCE TO REMEMBER

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His hands are shaking and it takes him a good couple of minutes to register that he is holding a cold, metallic device and even a few more to realize it’s a gun. His eyes slowly fall to the small pistol rattling between his trembling arms as the cases of spent bullets meet with his feet.

The world is in complete silence and yet that absence of sound speaks the secret volumes of his train-wreck of thoughts. Each crashing at one another, battling over dominance within his mind and rendering the man completely and utterly confused.

Is it...it? At last?

The numbing sound of gunshot only starts to enroll in his head. Startled, the man drops the weapon, meeting with another noise of clashing metal and exquisite marble floor. His feet step back in remorse and his luxurious shoes split the silence even more.

The man takes another experimental step, finally meeting with the soft fabric of a carpet below him. The more he steps away from the immobile pistol, the more the vision of what happened moments away becomes plastered to his mind, palpitating like an overexerting heart that ridiculously tries to pump blood everywhere.

As much as he tries to get a hold around it, he can't- the image is blurry and the voices are numb. He pleads his memory to go back, back when he can remember something- anything- back to the start of the evening.

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The sheen of the chandelier reflects its kaleidoscopic shine on the high marble and wooden walls, but more importantly on the puzzle of people entwining with one another as they dance with no regret. Bright colors and well-dressed people of all kinds, laughing and losing themselves in an extravagant party that cannot be matched anywhere.

The band plays a lively song as multiple singers lend their voices to a brand-new microphone, resonating within the full hall. Dancers entertain older men who prefer the company of younger girls rather than their aging wives. Glamorous show of fountains and decorations that shine under the light, spreading their beauty to anyone that is willing to watch, eye-catching beneath the blanket of secrecy that is the night.

Between lean legs and rogue knees, there are the ones which their eyes are filled with complete wonder and awe. Those whose heart is beating like the largest drum of the band. Those who are seeking for this unreal magic in a party and can never tire of it.

The young, caramel-skinned man is one of those individuals, and he does not hide it even to the slightest but. His moves are slowed down, as if needing time to adjust to the steaming air within the hall. He takes a step and accidentally missteps as a few dancers push through him, rendering him unbalanced, but he finds it back by watching the grandiose chandelier in the middle of the room.

A smitten smile spread over his lips as the light shines against his eyes. It’s all so breathtakingly gorgeous, causing him to bloom a toothy grin from the shy smile he had just a moment ago.

He had never been the one to dwell in such large parties, let alone such a large and popular one. The illuminating crystals above tantalize his bright gaze and the music fills his heart with such rare joy that he thinks of never leaving, and forgetting the world outside. It’s a beautiful facade, and as soon as it ends, all those men will return to their grey, normal jobs, and all those women will return to their grey, normal, households. However, now is the time to lose one’s senses, the time to forget identities and reveal new ones.

“Isn’t this a lovely sight?” A man he had never met before, dressed in an expensive suit- velvet perhaps- throws next to the sun-kissed one.

In reply, he nods eagerly, “Oh yes, the party is lovely.”

The stranger chuckles slightly, shakes his liquor within the crystallic glass, then turns to the mesmerized darker man. Within the stranger’s eyes, there’s a hidden, unreadable and playful glint.

“I meant you,” He speaks in an amused tone, “You are a lovely sight.”

The tanned one’s grin melts into a bashful expression and even though there are at least a thousand different people around them, it feels as if it’s only them- only the two of them are there, standing amidst the crowd, facing each other.

“My name is Lee Jaehwan.” The strangers offers a hand and right that instant the darker one swears that the illuminating light from the chandelier creates a thousand different stars in the other’s dark, chocolate eyes, and the grin he had earlier isn’t the only thing that melts within him.

“Hakyeon,” He gasps moments later, “Cha Hakyeon.”

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Jaehwan is one of those individuals that have done quite a lot for their wealth and money. Starting as an heir to a wealthy Lee heritage, it wasn’t enough for him- the young heir decided to start trading within China over sweet poppy seeds and their most popular product - Opium.

Hakyeon is offered a long, twirling bud, poppy-scented. Although he turns it down, Jaehwan keeps that sweet smile of his as he continues telling his story.

Hakyeon isn’t sure whether the man is aware of it, but the other’s voice is filled with such passion, it’s attracting Hakyeon’s attention constantly, and when he speaks of his trips back and forth between China and Korea, it’s breathtaking and exhilarating

His curls move around airily as his lips form words and stories, and bit by bit Hakyeon gets lost within that exotic beauty that Jaehwan emits. Pouty, slick lips both from liquor and saliva, a long, defined nose that looks almost foreign, and clear, slightly tanned skin. His eyes that are round and look at Hakyeon like he is some sort of treasure, like he really matters and is an important individual out of that sea of people. That gaze, as if he’s a gem, a rare pearl that needs to be savoured closely. Even though Jaehwan continues to speak and they move from room to room, going away from the party, the look in his chocolate, round orbs, stays the same.

“It’s my party, you know.” Are the words that cause a shift in Hakyeon’s moves as they stroll the gigantic balcony, filled with all kinds of flowers that the caramel skinned man can’t even fathom their names or origin. His eyes travel across the stony walls, over to the golden ornaments and decorations, landing at last at the delicate, colorful growth.

It’s a chilly time of the night, and this secluded space above the party in the main hall and gardens, reminds Hakyyeon that the sweet breeze he felt before had already turned into cold wind. He tightens his velvet jacket around his frame and looks slightly over the edge of the stone balcony. The people below look so far away and their voices, along with the band’s music become dazed.

Hakyeon isn’t sure when it became just the two of them in this unreachable part of the mansion, but now, when he looks around he can only see the stunning view of a far-away urbanica and the host of a grandiose event.

“Oh,” He utters, voice lost with the wind, “It’s lovely.” Hakyeon turns to the other, and catches that look of true adoration shining in his eyes, mixing with the white flare of moonlight.

Jaehwan walks closer, throwing away the waster bud of opium and drinking expensive liquor that he has been nursing for long. Hakyeon feels the host’s hands reach for his curved waist and when the darker man lifts his view, he can see how blown are Jaehwan’s pupils, shaded with the effects of opium.

“It is lovely,” He whispers, as Hakyeon follows the thick lines of his pouty lips, “Seeing you like this.”

The host’s hands travel further and the dark skinned one isn’t sure whether its’ the cold breeze or the hot touch through layers of velvet is the one causing a shiver down his spine.

“It could be more lovely,” The soft, caressing arms become a grips, settling on Hakyeon’s sides, “If we were inside.”

There’s no place to doubt whether there is or isn’t a secret meaning in his tone, and while Hakyeon keeps getting lost in the attractive features of the man that gets closer and closer until they share the same, steaming breath, he swears that there’s something in his stomach that warns him of the acts to come.

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He feels the hard wooden door as Jaehwan’s much larger hands throw him against it. There’s a slight moment of silence where Hakyeon can finally, vividly think, but it gets snatched away by plush lips that move against his own. There’s a hot exchange of tongue before Jaehwan pulls back a bit, just a little to admire the disheveled attire of his guest. Hakyeon can’t think, can’t see, can’t hear and every sense of his is drowning in the attraction and attack on his feelings that is Lee Jaehwan. The dark musk of opium and liquor is tantalising, and momentarily cause the dark skinned man to forget why he is even here.

He gasps, or maybe Jaehwan gasps- he can’t tell, but they’re both dancing once again against one another, sweating under layers and layers of velvet, cotton and unneeded rayon. Hands are everywhere and the temperature rises violently as Jaehwan pushes Hakyeon further, as if there’s anywhere to go.

“Jae--Jae,” A gasp as lips attach to silky, tanned skin of his neck, “Jae,” He pleads, creating some space between him and the host, “What did you say..” Another unplanned gasp and he doesn’t manage to murmur the rest of the question because Jaehwan is everywhere. Hakyeon shuts his eyes and it takes all of his might to form the same question again and shift the man that surrounds him with no mercy, once more.

“Jaehwan-” He whispers, airy vowels dance against sweaty skin, “What did you say.. Your company name was?”

It’s an odd question to ask while fooling around, especially when both are intoxicated, it is the last subject anyone would ask at a moment like this. Jaehwan’s dark pupils are blown, wildly, and there’s this fierce gaze hiding behind it, as if he could look straight right through Hakyeon, who is frazzled enough without it. Even though the words are misplaced, there’s a hidden meaning, a secret that should be brought out-- but not yet.

“Lee-Xian corporation.” The answer is short before an attack on Hakyeon’s senses is unleashed again, and he can’t tell his own musk from Jaehwan’s, much like the exchange of shining beads of sweat.

However, Hakyeon isn’t here by mistake.

Silence, everything stills. Jaehwan’s eyes are wide- not because of the sweet drug he had consumed before, rather then out of sheer fear.

“Hakyeon?” He utters, shivering against the cold metal that is pressed to his abdomen.

There’s a reason that Hakyeon never was a party man, and it’s not because of shyness or anything similar to it. There’s a reason that he is an unknown exotic beauty that is yet to be tied to a single man or woman. There’s a reason he could never afford to go to such extravagant events, and that reason is standing right in front of him, shaking with dread against the metallic weapon prodding at him.

“Lee Jaehwan.” Words that could have sounded so sweet in any other situation, so happy and satisfied just at the roll of their vowels are said with anger and animosity and his hands clasp tighter over the trigger.

“What are you doing?” He tries to reason, and the host missteps backwards, “What the hell?” His voice is still quiet, but seething with trembling anger.

“In 1921 your corporation had bought my father’s road, making it into your own, personal trade route.” Hakyeon explains, and at last, things fall into place, “You ripped us of our only income, you egoistic bastard.” The trigger makes a dangerous noise, even though it isn’t clicked yet.

“Because of you,” Hakyeon grits between his teeth, “My father had to work in mines, and as a consequence, died from boulders.”

Jaehwan falls back onto the marble floor, waving his arms for the tanned one to stay away, “Hakyeon I’m sorry-- I just buy whatever seems right! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t!” Hakyeon growls, knuckles turning white from the grasp on the glock, “Don’t you dare to say my name.”

The music becomes louder, and finally, the party reaches its peak, where all the guests are intoxicated and joyous enough to have fun at the most. The band strikes a scandalous swing, and the glistening lights are twirling all around, whirling and sucking all dancers in, ripping them of their identities and rendering them but adrenaline-induced, joy-filled moving bodies.

None of them hear the shot from above, and the music continues, without even knowing that the one to organize it all, is no longer here.

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